


Hear The Unloved Weeping Like Rain

by Rozzie



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: I love him, I've never written for these two so they're both probably gonna be a bit ooc, M/M, and this is the outcome, guillermo's perspective really, hand holding..?, i don't know if i'll last until 2020 for season 2, nandor is a clingy vamp, nandor is probably a bit ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 09:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rozzie/pseuds/Rozzie
Summary: While performing his morning familiar duties, Guillermo is interrupted by a not so unwelcome guest.





	Hear The Unloved Weeping Like Rain

Even with multiple layers of newspaper pages plastered onto the window panes within the vampire household, the faintest of light has still managed to seep in through the paper, allowing Guillermo to work without the strain of candlelight or yellowed light bulbs to the eye. It gives the parlor walls a sort of muted ambience during the day. Perhaps even serene- if Guillermo dared to think that thought while standing no more than 20 feet from a cellar full of bloodless corpses. His master had gone to rest at least an hour or so ago, leaving the familiar to share the gentle ambience of morning raindrops with himself. Guillermo is currently dusting the eclectic possessions scattered around every nook and cranny of the dwelling, leathery old novels in foreign languages and tasseled lampshades. 

After he had finished aiding his master into his daily slumber, Guillermo had made an effort not to go downstairs until he had seen Collin leave the house, stalking around the front door for a while beforehand, waiting for a specific familiar to show up for his first meal. The familiar having stayed put until he watched the psychic vampire finally departed in mellowed impatience. Although not before managing to still have an early brunch from the mailman and two morning joggers while Guillermo watched through the parted blinds. He was somewhat sympathetic but disturbingly filled with apathy for one of the only living occupants in the household. The only. 

Better them than him, at least, the familiar painfully aware of how he had become rather passive regarding these sorts of things after dealing with them for the duration of a decade. A long decade. Training to be a creature of the night, of course. One who devoured mortals must not have their shared morals. Or consciences.. 

Guillermo tugged at the collar of his sweater. 

The rest of the night walkers were currently fast asleep, doing whatever it is that vampires do in their coffins for ten hours each day. Maybe performing satanic rituals. Conversing with the demons that skittered through the walls. Probably brooding.

Nadja had gone up hours ago, cross with her lover and complaining about something too specific to recall, blood having stained darkened lips and running down her jaw in red clumps. 

Lazlo had left not too long after that, arguing that the subject of whatever conversation they held had nothing to do with him, leaving the source of Nadja’s ichor-stained chin slumped by the stair balusters. 

Guillermo had been forced to haul the rather hefty corpse all the way to the back porch, ready to dispose of the body before Nandor swooped in, dragging him back to his crypt so the vampire could retire for the early morning. Not like he could have waited another twenty or so minutes. 

So a rather normal night for Staten Island’s local vampires. 

Breaking from his feeble attempts to scrape the melted candle wax off of Lazlo’s harpsichord, Guillermo checks the time only to be made aware of the fact that it is currently very much 8am and that he is very much going to be surviving on caffeine for the next nine or so hours. 

-

While waiting for the coffee pot to heat up, Guillermo feels himself start to nod off, a wet cold beginning to seep in through the barely insulated house. He’s keenly made aware of the draft that’s settled by the sink window, a chill starting to sink through his woolen layers as he discards the single fly and two gnats that lay dead on the countertop. 

Hearing the stirring of the coffee pot, Guillermo clambers back to his room- if one could call it such- before shuffling through his drawers and then pulling out the only mug that does not have lint or a bug carcass residing at the bottom. It bears the design of a cartoon cat wearing a pair of glasses, reading in faint lettering: “Happy New Year 2008” 

As Guillermo stands, he can’t help but acknowledge the glittering and rather hard not to notice portrait that sits besides his desktop monitor, featuring him as well as Nandor. Both men in the picture bare sets of pearly white fangs which curl from under their top lips, stoic but hard to take completely seriously due to the abundance of sparkles that make the image up. The familiar frowns slightly at this, swaying between intense resentment for his master as well as a sense of longing for what he has yet to possess. Guillermo sighs, being reminded of how much he wants to dawn those two bits of sharpened calcium within his jaw, gaining eternal life and all the elements which came along with the title of vampire. To accomplish his dream. Couldn’t it be a humble desire? An easy task? 

Guillermo seems to answer that question for himself as he’s alerted to the loud creaking of the floor above him, dust beginning to shudder from the low ceiling, decades old wood groaning at the weight of an approaching guest. 

Scrambling out from the closet, the familiar advances towards the source of the commotion before he takes in the view of his master carefully making his way down one of the stairwells, apparently not in any hurry to make it to the ground floor. 

“Is there something wrong, Master?” Guillermo questions, a tinge of confusion in his voice due to the fact that the vampires rarely ever left their crypts during the daytime. Let alone Nandor. 

“Oh no, nothing is wrong.” Nandor responds, briefly turning to see the watery luster escaping from one of the stained glass windows, left exposed. “I just needed to stretch my legs.” 

Guillermo holds in a snort from under his breath, aware of how much bullshit that answer entails. Nandor doesn’t seem to hear that, instead progressing towards the familiar before standing beside him, rather mute compared to his normally eccentric nature. Any sort of light is currently muted by the dark velvets and aged wood that make up the parlor’s interior, cast iron and ebony and a faded Persian rug. 

Nandor has apparently discarded his cloak and practically any of his other garments besides what Guillermo last remembers seeing him in as he entered his coffin, clad in a dark vest atop a pale white chemise. Quite similar to the victorian vampires that have graced Guillermo’s undead entertainment field, ghostly and antiquities in themselves. 

The vampire glances at his familiar in uncertainty before his expression crumples into some sort of emotion sharing a semblance to revulsion. “What’s that horrible smell?” 

Guillermo blinks, sniffing the air before registering that his coffee must have finished brewing. “Oh it’s only coffee, Master.” 

“Coffee.” Nandor repeats, humming in mild repulsion. 

The familiar winces at his master’s irritation, sheepishly shifting his weight from one foot to the other in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, master, I could throw it out but it’s to help me stay awake since I still have to finish t-“ 

Nandor raises his hand to silence Guillermo from continuing the tangent, instead, turning to eye the familiar and the mug held within his fidgeting hands. “So is this what you do when I’m asleep?” 

Guillermo looks down at the mug, starting to feel that icy draft recede from his bones and become replaced with a hot iron spreading beneath the skin of his face. 

“I- uh- I don’t get much sleep around here.” He mumbles, dropping his gaze to the floor. Nandor’s boots snag in his peripheral. A stray thought passes in Guillermo’s mind just how the vampire could stand to sleep with those on, let alone in such a cramped space. He hopes that he will be able to answer that question in the future, preferably in the near future if his master is merciful enough. 

“Ah. Well I don’t have you as my familiar just so you can stand around all day and make.. Whatever unpalatable beverages you’re concocting.” Nandor states, clasping his hands together as he makes his way to the library, leaving Guillermo without much of any context as to why he had interrupted the man’s normally vampireless mornings. 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Guillermo asks, following his master into the room. He’s met with no response as Nandors drops himself onto the chaise lounge, immediately followed by a loud groan escaping the poor piece of furniture. The vampire props his boot-clad heels onto the coffee table, bringing a hand to stroke his beard in indecisiveness. For a moment, Guillermo thinks he may have fallen back asleep before he seems to have finally made up his mind, pointing at the familiar. “Do we have any spare virgins on hand?” 

“Nadja took the last one yesterday.” The familiar says, grabbing one of the various lighters he keeps around the house before he lights the candlesticks scattered within the room, allowing him to see better. 

“I suppose I’ll have nothing then.” Nandor curses, folding his arms in irritation. 

“Noted.” Guillermo responds, watching his master pick up one of the books resting on the various tables around him, flipping through the pages a bit too intently. The familiar leaves the vampire to go turn the coffee pot off before he returns with the hideously old mug now burning into his palms. 

Before he steps in, Guillermo pauses. He would say it was to prepare to be a vampire, unable to enter an area unless invited in. But mainly it was just a reconsideration. He stands warily at the library’s entrance, unsure if his master even wants any company, seeming to be doing just fine alone in the dimly lit space. Nandor appears to notice him loitering outside of the room, raising his head towards Guillermo as the familiar fumbles with the coffee. 

“You’re not a vampire, I don’t have to invite you in.” Nandor proclaims as Guillermo stumbles inside before he sits down on one of the tufted chairs placed in the center of the library. He has never gotten the chance to sit amongst the vampires, always standing at attention or exchanging their goblets for another. A servant. A familiar. 

“Well I just didn’t know if you wanted me to come in..” Guillermo anxiously murmurs, taking a sip of the steaming hot liquid, a flood of warmth spreading into his ribs. He wonders when he becomes a vampire if he’ll get to feel this sensation. Did raw blood invigorate the same feeling as warmth? Or was it more akin to the euphoric burn of alcohol? 

Nandor clicks his tongue against his fangs in an apparent response. 

“So what’re you doing up so early, master?” Guillermo feebly asks, attempting to drag Nandor into conversation. 

“I have just been thinking.” The vampire answers nonchalantly, eyeing the familiar sitting to his left. A spark of hope crackles in the back of Guillermo’s throat, whispering chances of what it was he desires most. Had his master awoken to the realization of his full potential? Has he come down in this early morning ambience to bestow the gift of immortality onto his familiar?

“Did you want to make me into a vampire?” Guillermo smiles, instinctively leaning closer to Nandor. 

He grimaces at his familiar in aversion. “No, that is the last thing I am thinking about.” 

The grin on Guillermo’s face fades almost as quickly as it had originally appeared. “Then.. what?” 

Nandor leans back on the lounge, frowning deeply as he stares at nothing in particular within view, an uncertain aura filling the empty space around the two. “Guillermo?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you have to kill the baron?” 

Guillermo appears flustered at this, clambering to correct his master. “I- I’ve already told you that it was an accident!” He hisses, anxiously glancing towards the place where the event had occurred, right there between the twin stairwells. Had he always been able to smell the scent of charred flesh? 

“Yes, Yes.” Nandor says, waving his hand dismissively at the familiar. “But do you know how inconvenient it’s been lately since that deranged council meeting? I haven’t been able to have a good day’s sleep in weeks.” He groans, leaning back into the cushion, before he extends his arms to rest on either side of the lounge. 

“I’m sorry, master.” Guillermo murmurs, hesitantly gliding his fingers against the ceramic mug’s varnish, chipping at the paint with his nail. “But you have to know I didn’t mean it. You vampires are normally all packed up in the morning.” 

“Do I look packed up?” Nandor grumbles, tapping at the dark wooden embellishments melded against the lounge’s pale fabric, the vampire rather animated for the current time of day. 

The familiar apologies once more, a heavy weight beginning to build at the base of his stomach. He scours the faded rug’s design at his feet, attempting to rest his increasing hysteria before he notices a blood stain he had never managed to get out on the floor. Guillermo sets his mug onto the coffee table, suddenly feeling any sense of hunger leave his body, a deep guilt churning within his abdomen.   
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you lose any sleep.” The familiar whimpers, raising his expression to meet Nandor’s leaden gaze. “It wasn’t my intent.” 

“Oh Guillermo.” Nandor remorsefully sighs, twirling a piece of rich black hair between his ring-clad fingers. “For your sake, I hope that’s true.”

The familiar thinks he may actually become sick at this point before he sees the vampire chuckle, clicking his fingernails against the furniture in a familiar rhythm. “Oh don’t take it too hard, Guillermo, I can sense your trepidation from all the way over here.” 

“Sorry.” He mumbles, still drowning to the absolute brim with anxiety. The familiar notices that his master seems a bit languid, attempting to fill the air with something instead of letting the two saturate in the rather stale air. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Guillermo asks, feverish from the sudden reminder about how he had nearly gotten his entire household fried to a crisp. His master. He would definitely not be getting sleep either, even if it’d be a while before he’d get the chance to. 

“Perhaps. But I know you still have much to do.” Nandor rasps, blinking lazily at the man settled beside him. Guillermo begs to differ. 

“I can spare some time, master.” Guillermo pleads, leaning closer to the vampire. The reflection of the golden candlelight flickers against the lenses of his glasses, adding to the intense emotion that has started to radiate off the familiar in waves, leaving Nandor to be humored by the mortal. 

“Alright then.” Nandor curls, his fangs becoming rather prominent in the dim light, sparkling and curved at a slight angle. Guillermo wants nothing more than for those porcelain teeth to sink into his own flesh and for even a mere bead of his master’s cardinal blood to trickle atop his tongue. The gift of immortality, gained as he’s enthralled within the touch of Nandor, leaning into his dark and silken hair. Balmy warmth. Guillermo imagines that his master tastes of saccharine. 

Rising from his seat, Nandor beckons Guillermo to follow him, snapping the familiar from his daydreams. Guillermo is suddenly quite thankful for the caffeine keeping him awake and somewhat alert to his master’s actions. He stares at Nandor from behind, wishing now more than ever that he could reach out and wrap an arm around his broad torso. Have them both hobble through the halls before collapsing in a coffin built for the two of them. Rest. Two vampires devoted to one another. Proximity. 

Maybe coffee wasn’t the best idea. 

Guillermo enters Nandor’s crypt, finding it to be exactly as it was when he had left his master earlier in the morning. The heavy coffin is slightly ajar, likely stemming from the fact that the vampire rarely ever left it on his own without aid, only adding to the small comfort within Guillermo that he was essential to Nandor at times. It was a pleasant emotion. 

“I want you to stay in here.” Nandor abruptly commands, turning to face his familiar. 

“Why?” Guillermo questions, not exactly against the declaration but rather curious as to why his master would want him to waste some essential familiar-duty-hours to do.. whatever it is he’s supposed to do. 

Nandor scoffs at the question, adjusting the linen of his sleeves before grabbing the nearest candelabra by its metal bass and shoving it towards Guillermo. “Well? Light them.”

“Are you not going back to sleep..?” The familiar asks, lips thinning into a straight line as he snaps the trigger of the handheld lighter, positioning the flame over the candle wicks. “Because you know t-“

“Be quiet, Guillermo.” Nandor demands, wincing a bit as he sees his familiar flinch at the cruel edge tinging the commandment. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh.” He murmurs, setting the now lit candelabra down. The vampire then motions for the other man to light the rest of the candles present in his crypt, black and red and all. 

“I want you to keep an eye on the candles while I sleep.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather sleep in the dark?” Guillermo asks, confused as to why a vampire would forsake the darkness and proximity of the dark. They draped heavy fabric over their windows to prevent a single beam of sunlight to emerge. They slept in a coffin, cramped and warm and as dark as it comes. 

Nandor shakes his head, gliding a sizeable hand across the lid of his coffin, large geometric patterns carved onto the top. The edges sanded to an ebony gloss. Solid. Hefty. Guillermo always held a creeping suspiciously in the back of his head that somehow he’d manage to crush the tips of his fingers one night when closing the heavy door. It didn’t seem impossible. 

He had risked it on certain occasions, when he didn’t want the last thing Nandor to hear during early morning rest to be a loud slam right next to his skull. 

Guillermo isn’t sure if he’d be that charitable nowadays. 

“I wish to sleep without any confinement today.” Nandor declares, gingerly rapping his familiar’s wrist when he attempts to pull the chain of one of the electrical lights. “I don’t want it to be like the surface of the sun in here.” He hisses, Guillermo biting back a response. 

“Well then be my guest.” The familiar sighs, extending his hand towards the vampire. 

Nandor willingly takes the warm hand into his own, the two men working in time to what feels like clockwork, a routine they had performed for weeks upon months upon long, long years. Guillermo leads the vampire to dip within the coffin, Nandor easing his weight before leaning into the coffin. The familiar can’t help but notice how the walls of thick fur seem to fit perfectly to his figure. Like it was built just for the fallen ottoman ruler. And it was most likely built with that exact purpose in mind. 

Nandor seems to notice him staring, lead-filtered eyes catching onto Guillermo’s own pair, that chilled draft seeping it’s way back into a spinal column, separating into tiny veins prickling across his shoulder blades. 

“Should I keep the lid open, master?” Guillermo quietly inquires, adjusting his glasses. 

“No, I prefer the open air. At least for today.” Nandor answers, laying his head back against the silk pillow beneath his skull, dark hair contrasting beside palen embroidery. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep, unnecessarily prolonged breath before sinking deeper into his collection of pelts and pelage. 

Guillermo turns away from the now situated vampire, preparing to light the rest of the candles when he’s met with a pair of nails digging into his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. Slowly, the familiar returns his attention back to Nandor, his master now fixated on him, coupled with a pleading flicker plastered over his expression. Allure. “Won’t you stay, Guillermo?” He asks. 

“Would that make you happy, master?” The familiar responds, blinking as he wrenches his wrist from Nandor’s iron-tight grip, only for his hand to be gripped even tighter, held firmly in the vampire’s clammy palm. 

“It would.” Nandor admits, the pressure in Guillermo’s hand increasing, pulling him closer. 

Guillermo’s face flushes a slight red, the familiar glancing around his master’s chambers before easing the stool from the base of the coffin up to the other side. He slowly sits down, slightly nervous that his hand remains firmly grasped by Nandor’s taut grip. It seems that the vampire wants to keep his familiar close at hand-literally- for the sake of company. 

Nandor seems to have been finally pleased, eyes closing and arm now ever so slightly dangling over the rim of the coffin, connected to his familiar’s hand. The vampire mutters something incoherent, shifting for a moment before he moves no longer, leaving Guillermo in thickened silence. 

Perched beside his master, separated by only a coffin wall, Guillermo is tempted to rest his own head onto the slick edge, somewhat stuck in this position now, Nandor’s hand still very much in his own. He isn’t sure if it’s disappointment that has curled within his ribs, a moment cut too quickly, an unfinished scene. Guillermo flicks the thought into the back of his brain the moment it’s conjured, the familiar turning to observe his sleeping master. 

It’s a pleasant view, to say the least, Nandor’s soft and broadly rounded features now without their usual grimace or warped irritation. His richly toned hair had already been brushed out earlier, although it was not particularly ragged from his journey up and down the stairs. 

Guillermo ponders on a daytime fantasy where he could grab onto the coffin edges without a flicker of hesitance and jump in with Nandor. View his fangs from such a close proximity. That would be nice. Lovely. Wonderful. The moment as of now still holds a tinge of that feeling, wrapped in the flesh of Nandor’s hand held in Guillermo’s own. But he can barely see the vampire’s teeth, hidden behind his lips and he knows that the current moment is soon to dissipate. 

Flexing his knuckles in despair, Guillermo feels Nandor instinctively contract at the action, alerting the familiar to the fact that no matter how still and tranquil the vampire seemed, he was very much alert and conscious. Predator. Sighing, Guillermo finally has given up the idea of remaining in a mood of anything remotely canny, caffeine and anxiety having worn him out. He continues to watch his master with great care before he slowly lays his own head down, resting atop an arm which was currently propped up by the coffin edge. Breaking his concentration with a languid yawn, the familiar allows himself to slowly melt away, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the faint sound of rain tapping the window panes. 

Guillermo is too exhausted to even notice the rather large hand that threads up into his scalp, easing him into the vampire’s direction. Fangs are revealed as a jaw parts in craving, advancing towards the man’s throat before it begrudgingly halts, a hiss of discontent escaping the vampire’s throat. Realization. The fangs retreat from Guillermo’s weakened stance, Nandor furrowing his brow at the unconscious familiar set before him. Wavering. Hesitation. Second thoughts. And mainly his own saturated reluctance. 

A bit more time is all that he was in need of. Another few months. Another few years of service from the familiar that lay peacefully at his side, letting his guard down, an unwise decision to say the least. Amity, prolonged. Time. And then the vampire would be willing to let go. A false promise Nandor repeated in his mind as he lay back, refusing to ease his hold on Guillermo. Merely time. That was all, time.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I love these two more than life.   
> Hope you enjoyed <3


End file.
